A dear friend of mine who had a glass eye told me this joke. He thought it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. If you’re feeling sensitive, please don’t judge me. Just don’t read any further.
Charley wasn’t entirely socially comfortable about his new eye. Times were hard during the depression. He’d had to whittle and paint it himself, so it wasn’t the best. His buddies were trying to get him to ask the girls to dance on Saturday night. He kept putting it off, dreading being turned down. Finally he got his nerve up, noticing a young lady standing off to one side, she was lovely, but clearly shy, since she kept covering her harelip with her hand when she smiled.
He decided to take a chance, thinking all she could do was say no. He sidled up, asking if she’d like to dance.
She was thrilled, “Would I? Would I?”
Stunned, he retorted, “Harelip! Harelip!”
So often we are listening so hard to what we think, we can’t hear others!
On the subject of preference among children, I loved both my children best. Enjoying a loving moment with one, I’d think, “I could never love another child this much!” Conversely, when I was with the other, I’d have the same thought. I confess, I didn’t always treat them the same. One was more wayward, pushing as far as they dared, knowing I couldn’t commit murder, as attractive as it might seem at the moment. Most of the time, the other child was empathetic, well-behaved, a total joy, unless they weren’t, which also certainly happened on memorable occasions. Sometimes the needs of one overshadowed the other, challenging us to the maximum of our feeble parenting skills.
Often either, one of them would cuddle up to me, asking, “Who do you love more, me or ……….? I usually delighted them by saying, “Well, you can never tell, but right now, I love you more.” They found my other answer equally delightful. “You’re so silly! You know I don’t like either of you!” Then they’d dissolve into a fits of giggles as I tickled them. They loved either answer, secure, knowing I loved them, no matter what.